20. Lucas
LUCAS
The helicopter struck the mountain sideways.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded.
The world spun once.
Twice.
Then stopped so violently every bone in my body felt as though it had shattered.
For several seconds, I heard nothing.
Not the warning alarms.
Not the groaning metal.
Not the dying rotors.
Only the memory of Wynn saying my name.
I opened my eyes.
Smoke filled the cabin.
The helicopter rested at an angle against several trees, its broken nose hanging over the edge of a ravine.
My harness cut into my chest.
Blood ran into one eye.
None of it mattered.
Wynn lay beneath me.
Too still.
“Wynn?”
No response.
My heart stopped.
I released my harness and caught myself against the wall before my weight crushed her.
“Wynn.”
I carefully steadied her head and touched two fingers to her throat.
Pulse.
Weak.
Steady.
Air rushed back into my lungs.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
I cupped her face without moving her neck.
Her eyes remained closed.
A thin line of blood ran from her hairline.
“Open your eyes.”
Nothing.
Fear ripped through me.
Not the controlled fear I could use.
This was wild.
Useless.
The kind that hollowed a man out from the inside.
“Wynn!”
Her eyelids fluttered.
A soft moan escaped her.
I nearly collapsed.
“There you are.”
Her emerald eyes opened slowly.
For one terrible second, she stared at me without recognition.
Then she whispered, “Lucas?”
“I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“We crashed.”
She frowned.
“I noticed.”
Relief hit me so hard a laugh broke from my chest.
Of course.
Half-conscious and bleeding, she still had an answer.
“Don’t move yet. Tell me where you hurt.”
“Everywhere.”
“Anything sharp?”
“My head.”
“Neck?”
“No.”
“Back?”
“No.”
“Can you move your feet?”
She moved one boot.
Then the other.
“Happy?”
“Not even close.”
Someone groaned behind us.
Reality returned.
The team.
The pilot.
The traitor.
I looked around the ruined cabin.
Adam hung against his harness near the cockpit.
Blood covered one side of his face, but his eyes were open.
Boone had been thrown beneath a row of seats.
Russ was already cutting through his harness.
Hawk lay beside the communications equipment, not moving.
“Hawk!”
Russ reached him first.
“He’s breathing.”
“Wake him.”
“I’m working on it.”
Adam released his harness and dropped heavily onto the tilted floor.
“Status.”
“Wynn’s conscious.”
“Boone?”
A hand appeared from beneath the seats.
“I’m beginning to reconsider this travel agency.”
Adam exhaled.
“Can you move?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you want me to scream.”
Russ crawled toward him.
“Then scream quietly.”
“I’ve missed your compassion.”
The pilot remained strapped inside the crushed cockpit.
The front windshield had shattered.
A tree branch had driven through the instrument panel, missing his chest by inches.
He looked back at us.
“Fuel is leaking.”
Every man moved faster.
“How long?” Adam asked.
“Could ignite now. Could ignite in ten minutes. I wouldn’t wait to find out.”
The wounded copilot was gone.
His restraints had been sliced apart.
A narrow blade lay beside them near the open side door.
The pilot’s holster was empty.
I drew my pistol.
“The traitor escaped, and he took the pilot’s sidearm.”
Adam cursed.
“He won’t be far.”
“He doesn’t need to be,” Wynn said.
I looked down at her.
She had carefully pushed herself upright.
“What does that mean?”
“He knows we survived, and he knows where we crashed.”
Hawk gasped.
Russ rolled him onto his side.
His eyes opened.
“Did we land?”
Boone crawled free of the seats.
“If you call that landing, I’m never flying with you.”
Hawk blinked.
“I wasn’t flying.”
“Details.”
Russ carefully checked Hawk’s head and pupils.
“No obvious skull deformity, but you likely have a concussion.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were unconscious.”
“I was resting.”
I helped Wynn out of her harness.
She tried to stand.
Her knees buckled.
I caught her.
“I can walk.”
“You can barely sit.”
“I’m dizzy.”
“That isn’t better.”
“We need to get out of here.”
For once, we agreed.
I lifted her into my arms.
She immediately protested.
“Lucas.”
“No.”
“You’re injured too.”
“No.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Her arms went around my neck.
The movement felt so natural it hurt.
Six years disappeared.
I remembered carrying her across the threshold of our first apartment.
The place had been too small.
The pipes rattled.
The neighbors argued through walls thin enough to hear every word.
Wynn had laughed when I nearly dropped her because my boot caught on the rug.
We’d been happy there.
Not because of the apartment.
Because we were together.
I had forgotten how simple happiness could be.
“Lucas.”
I looked down.
She was watching me.
“What?”
“You went somewhere.”
“I’m right here.”
“No.” Her fingers brushed the scar near my temple. “You were remembering something.”
“Our first apartment.”
A soft smile touched her mouth.
“You tripped over that awful rug.”
“You bought that rug.”
“I was twenty-four.”
“What excuse did the rug have?”
She laughed quietly.
I held her tighter.
Then the helicopter shifted.
Metal groaned beneath us.
The shattered nose slid several inches toward the ravine.
“Everyone out!” Adam ordered.
Russ and Boone freed the pilot.
Hawk grabbed what remained of the communications equipment.
Adam collected weapons and emergency packs.
I carried Wynn through the damaged side door.
Cold mountain air struck us.
We had crashed in a steep, forested valley.
Pine trees covered the slopes.
Jagged cliffs rose on either side.
Smoke drifted from the helicopter.
No roads.
No buildings.
No sign of the escort aircraft.
“Where are we?” Wynn asked.
The pilot looked toward the mountains.
“Approximately thirty miles east of the air base.”
“Can you radio for help?”
Hawk examined the broken equipment.
“Not with this.”
Adam checked his satellite unit.
“Dead.”
Boone held up his phone.
“No signal.”
Russ scanned the ridge.
“The copilot took something else.”
I looked at the open aircraft door.
“What?”
“The tracker from beneath the console.”
Of course.
“He isn’t trying to lead them to us,” I said. “He’s trying to meet them.”
Adam understood immediately.
“An extraction team.”
“Or an assault team.”
“How much time?” Boone asked.
I studied the slope.
The copilot had suffered a gunshot wound to the shoulder.
Fresh blood marked the ground, leading uphill.
“Not much.”
The helicopter groaned again.
Then flames appeared beneath the engine.
“Move!”
We scrambled toward the tree line.
I carried Wynn behind a wall of rock.
Russ and Boone helped the pilot.
Adam supported Hawk for the last several yards.
Seconds later, the fuel ignited.
The explosion ripped through the valley.
Fire swallowed the helicopter.
A section of the broken rotor tore free and sailed over our heads.
It struck a tree hard enough to split the trunk.
Heat rolled across the rocks.
Black smoke climbed into the sky.
Every enemy for miles now knew where we had crashed.
Adam looked around the group.
“Medical status.”
“Pilot may have fractured ribs,” Russ said. “Hawk has a probable concussion.”
“Boone?”
“My ankle’s mad at me.”
“It’s swelling,” Russ added.
“Lucas is bleeding,” Wynn said.
Every man turned toward me.
I glared at her.
“Traitor.”
She lifted one eyebrow.
“I learned from the best.”
Adam pointed toward my head.
“How bad?”
“Glass cut.”
“Wynn?”
“Head injury.”
“She lost consciousness,” I added.
“I was out for ten seconds.”
“You don’t know how long.”
“Neither do you.”
“I was awake.”
“No, you weren’t.”
I opened my mouth.
Stopped.
She was right.
I hated when that happened.
Adam looked almost amused.
“Glad we settled that.”
“We need shelter,” Hawk said.
He sat against a tree, pressing one hand to his head.
“We need to stop the copilot,” I answered.
“With three injured operators and two people who can barely stand?” Russ asked.
“I can stand,” Wynn said.
I placed an arm around her when she swayed.
Russ looked at her.
“Convincing.”
“He’ll bring Meridian straight to us,” I said.
“No,” Hawk muttered. “He won’t.”
We turned toward him.
He held a damaged tablet recovered from the helicopter.
A map glowed across the cracked screen.
“What do you see?” Adam asked.
“The tracker wasn’t only transmitting. It was receiving tactical data.”
“Receiving what?”
Hawk enlarged the map.
A series of red dots moved across the northern ridge.
An enemy team was approaching fast.
“They were already coming.”
Silence settled over the valley.
The copilot hadn’t gone to meet them.
He had gone to join them.
“How long?” Adam asked.
“Twenty minutes.”
Boone checked his rifle.
“Good.”
Russ stared at him.
“What’s good about that?”
“I was worried we’d get bored.”
Even Wynn laughed.
I didn’t.
We had limited ammunition.
No radio.
No extraction.
Several injured operators.
A civilian pilot who could barely breathe.
And Wynn.
Always Wynn.
Adam studied the terrain.
“We can’t hold this position. The smoke will draw them straight here.”
“There’s a rock formation half a mile west,” Hawk said. “The map shows a narrow pass behind it.”
“Can we reach it?”
“Before them? Barely.”
Adam stood.
“We move.”
I turned my back toward Wynn.
“Climb on.”
She stared at me.
“You cannot carry me half a mile.”
“Watch me.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve bled farther.”
“Lucas—”
“Wynn.”
She crossed her arms.
I waited.
Behind us, the burning helicopter sent another fireball into the air.
Boone limped past.
“I’d climb on.”
Russ followed with the pilot’s arm around his shoulders.
“No one offered.”
“I’m just saying.”
Wynn looked toward the approaching red dots on Hawk’s tablet.
Then at me.
“This is humiliating.”
“You getting captured would be worse.”
“I hate it when you make sense.”
“So do I.”
She climbed onto my back.
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders.
Her legs circled my waist.
I caught them carefully and stood.
Pain exploded through my injured arm.
I gave no sign.
Wynn leaned close to my ear.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“You went pale.”
“It’s the lighting.”
“We’re outside.”
“Trees.”
Her breath warmed my neck.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“You married me anyway.”
“Yes. I did.”
The answer was quiet.
Tender.
My chest tightened.
Adam raised his rifle.
“Move out.”
We disappeared into the forest.
Hawk guided us west.
Russ helped the pilot.
Boone covered our rear.
Adam took the lead.
I carried Wynn.
For the first few minutes, no one spoke.
The forest grew denser as the ground climbed.
Branches clawed at our clothes.
Loose stones shifted beneath my boots.
Wynn rested her cheek against my shoulder.
I could feel every breath.
Every time her grip tightened.
Every beat of her heart against my back.
“You can put me down,” she whispered.
“No.”
“You’re slowing.”
“I’m conserving energy.”
“You’re in pain.”
“I’ve been in pain for six years.”
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Wynn went still.
I kept walking.
There was no taking them back.
“Lucas…”
“Forget it.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
Her arms tightened around me.
“Was it really six years?”
“Every day.”
Her breath caught.
“Why didn’t you come after me?”
The forest seemed to disappear.
So did the enemy.
There was only the woman on my back and the question I should’ve answered years ago.
“Because you asked me to let you go.”
“I wanted you to tell me no.”
“I know that now.”
“Would you?”
“What?”
“If I asked you again.”
I adjusted my grip on her legs and kept moving.
Wynn’s face was close to mine.
Too close.
Not close enough.
“If you asked me to let you go now, I’d tell you no.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
I felt it against my skin.
“Even if staying hurt?”
“Especially then.”
Wynn lowered her forehead against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For thinking you didn’t love me.”
“I gave you every reason to believe it.”
“No. You gave me every reason to know you did. You just never said it when I needed to hear it.”
I swallowed hard.
“I loved you then.”
Her breath stopped.
“I love you now.”
The truth settled between us.
No explosions.
No gunfire.
No one interrupting.
Just the words I should’ve said six years ago.
Wynn slowly lifted her head.
“Lucas…”
A rifle cracked through the forest.
The bullet struck the tree beside us.
I dropped into a crouch and helped Wynn slide from my back.
Adam shouted from ahead.
“CONTACT!”
Enemy fire ripped through the branches.
I shoved Wynn behind a fallen log and covered her with my body.
Men moved along both sides of the slope.
They had reached us faster than Hawk predicted.
Too fast.
Unless…
“They knew which way we’d go,” I said.
Adam fired toward the ridge.
“How?”
Hawk looked at the tablet.
The red dots weren’t converging on the helicopter.
They were converging on us.
A tiny light blinked at the center of the map.
Our location.
“They’re still tracking us,” Hawk said.
Wynn reached for the compass pendant that was no longer around her neck.
“It isn’t me.”
“No.”
My gaze moved across the team.
Adam.
Boone.
Russ.
Hawk.
The pilot.
Then I saw it.
A red pulse flashed beneath the pilot’s torn collar.
I grabbed him.
Russ raised his rifle.
“What are you doing?”
I ripped a tiny black disc from the fabric.
A red light blinked in my palm.
“Backup tracker.”
The pilot stared at it.
“I didn’t know.”
“The copilot planted it,” I said. “Probably before we took off.”
Another bullet tore through the fallen log.
Wynn pressed herself against the ground.
“They’ll keep finding us.”
“No.”
I looked toward the narrow pass ahead.
“Not after we give them something else to follow.”
Adam understood.
“You want to send the tracker in another direction.”
“With whom?” Russ asked.
A voice came from behind us.
“I’ll take it.”
Everyone turned.
The wounded copilot stood between the trees.
Blood soaked his shoulder.
The pilot’s stolen sidearm was aimed at Wynn.
He smiled.
“Right after Mrs. Spencer comes with me.”